


N-I-N-E-T-A-L-E-S spells love, right?

by SapphicScholar



Series: Supercat & General Danvers Week 2020 [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Crack, F/F, Fluff, Pokemon Go AU, technically a rivals au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26950078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicScholar/pseuds/SapphicScholar
Summary: “Kara’s favorite challenge is spending a quiet half hour each night carefully beating Team Valor out of the CatCo gym and claiming it for Team Mystic, leaving her Persian there in Cat’s honor. Every so often, she drops off her Ninetales, which isn’t technically a cat, but seems to give off the same energy as the resident CEO. Elegant, fierce, maybe breathes fire when it’s on the offensive.”Or, Cat and Kara might not be enemies at work, but their Pokémon Go avatars most certainly are.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Cat Grant
Series: Supercat & General Danvers Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966618
Comments: 24
Kudos: 177
Collections: General Danvers & Supercat Week 5





	N-I-N-E-T-A-L-E-S spells love, right?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Life is heavy right now. I didn’t have it in me to go full enemies. Please enjoy this cracky, fluffy fic instead

**From:** Cat Grant <CGrant@catco.org>  
 **To:** CatCoStaff-All

**Subject:** Pokémon Go in the Workplace

Good morning,

As you all know from our feature in the entertainment section of this weekend’s copy of _The Tribune_ , a new mobile app has taken the city by storm. Although I recognize its potential for community building, such games may not be played during work hours, like all personal activities. Any violations of this policy will constitute an offense to be documented in your personnel file, and repeated offenses will result in termination, effective immediately.

You may direct any and all questions to Norma in HR.

Cat Grant  
CEO and Founder, CatCo Worldwide Media

\---

A quiet ding—barely audible to most humans—drew Kara’s attention away from the pile of mail she’d been sorting through and back to her computer.

**KathMeIfYouCan:** Snorlax 2 steps away in bullpen! Report back re direction

**NotThrowingAwayMySchott:** 1 step from my desk. Proceed with caution

Carefully easing her phone out of her pocket, Kara darts a glance back at Cat’s office, finding her boss still glaring at her computer screen and muttering quiet obscenities under her breath. She launches the app and waits for it to load, holding her breath each time Cat shifts. But then it’s finally open, and yes, she accepts the risks and won’t go trespassing (though she _will_ break the rules at work). Quickly pulling up the Pokémon tracker, Kara sighs at the sight of the one little footprint still hovering beneath the Snorlax outline.

Lowering her phone brightness to practically nothing, Kara carries a piece of junk mail over to the shredder, then swings wide as she traipses back to her desk. Still nothing. And if it was one step for Winn, then it must be…

She gulps and glances over at Cat’s desk.

She _does_ have mail that Cat would want to see. And maybe just the tiniest hint of superspeed could be justified. Just this once.

Her heart thunders in her chest as she approaches Cat’s desk, and she practically squeaks as her phone vibrates in her pocket. Well, at least that settles the question of where that pesky Snorlax was napping.

“Um, Ms. Grant?”

“Shi—what, Kiera?” Cat snaps, her phone clattering to the ground.

“Oh, let me get that for you.”

“No!”

Kara blinks, already halfway to bending over. “Um…okay?”

“What do you need?”

“I, uh, I have your mail. All sorted. I put the most pressing invitations on top, and I can update your schedule this afternoon if you tell me which ones you’d like to accept.”

“Fine.”

With a small nod, Kara steps forward and hands over the stack of mail.

“You can go. I don’t need you hovering.”

“Um, okay.” As she turns, Kara sneaks her phone out of her pocket just enough to start her encounter, before scurrying to the bathroom where she manages to catch the Snorlax with far more pokéballs than she would care to admit to using.

When she returns to her desk, she finds Cat looking significantly happier and lets out a sigh of relief at not having been caught. A glance up at her tabs reminds her to pull up the staff Discord and send a quick message.

**SunnyD:** Abort. Encounter behind the glass walls. Not worth the risk.

\---

After Mark in Accounting gets fired for playing Pokémon Go during work hours, the Discord channel pretty much goes dark. Kara doesn’t tell everyone that she’d already pleaded to save his job after two major screw ups and that this was just the last straw after months of mistakes. She’d never get over the guilt if someone lost her job because she assured them it was no big risk.

Instead, Kara takes to using quiet patrol nights to catch up on her Pokémon playing. Lazy flights let her hatch dozens of eggs—at least until they implement a new, much stricter speed cap and Alex yells at her one too many times for getting caught practically hovering in midair. Still, it’s enough time that she manages to hatch a Chansey, another Snorlax, and a small army of Aerodactyls.

For months on end after the game launches, Kara constantly catches snippets of conversations as people join up with strangers and chase down a rare Pokémon outline together, grumbling about glitches and errors and the missing footprint meter. Sometimes she follows high overhead, wishing she could float down to play with them but knowing better than to risk being caught playing games on the job. A little part of her also feels guilty about how much of an edge her superhearing gives her when it comes to figuring out where the darn things are, though she insists to Alex that it’s still morally superior to spoofing—and, after she agrees to take Alex's and Vasquez’s personal phones with her one weekend on patrol, they concede that maybe it’s an acceptable advantage.

But Kara’s favorite challenge is spending a quiet half hour each night carefully beating Team Valor out of the CatCo gym and claiming it for Team Mystic, leaving her Persian there in Cat’s honor. Every so often, she drops off her Ninetales, which isn’t _technically_ a cat, but seems to give off the same energy as the resident CEO. Elegant, fierce, maybe breathes fire when it’s on the offensive. She tries explaining this to Alex but only gets so far as “elegant” before Alex is teasing her about the crush that has only gotten worse over the years, especially now that Ms. Grant trusts her with more and more responsibilities and seems to afford her a new level of respect, even out of the suit.

Almost without fail, though, the CatCo Plaza gym has been taken over by Team Valor again by the next evening, guarded by a Dragonair that over time evolves into an annoyingly powerful Dragonite.

On the nights she takes Alex's and Vasquez’s phones, she lets Valor keep the gym, dutifully training and then placing Alex’s Charizard and Vasquez’s trusty Gyarados in the lineup. Honestly, it would be better if they could all just play on the same team. She’s pretty sure Alex only followed Vasquez’s lead because she thinks Candela is hot. (She also has suspicions about Alex’s “coworker bonding nights” with Vasquez and only Vasquez, but she’ll wait for Alex to bring it up.)

Kara thinks little of her nightly gym battles until one day when Carter comes by the office to hang out until his dad picks him up for the weekend.

He drags a chair up to Kara’s desk with a quiet, “My mom said it was okay so long as you aren’t busy and if I ask politely. Are you busy?”

Kara smiles and shakes her head. “Never too busy for some science homework.”

“I already finished it. It was so easy this week.”

“Oh. Nice, good job. Got other homework to do, or you just here for the company?”

Carter’s cheeks flush a light shade of pink as he fishes through his backpack before pulling out his phone—one Kara knows is for “emergencies only.” But before Kara can protest, Carter waves off her concern. “It’s fine, no texts or calls. Wanna play Pokémon with me?”

“Oh, um, I don’t think your mom would be too happy about that.”

“No, it’s fine. She helped me set up an account.”

“I just mean, I’m at work,” Kara says, darting a glance at Cat’s office as she continues, “and I know she doesn’t want her employees playing Pokémon during the workday.”

With a loud snort of laughter, Carter shakes his head, muttering, “Sure she doesn’t.”

“I—”

“She wouldn’t say no to me anyway. And we can just play on my phone. Wait! Do you play? Do you know how to do a curveball? Can you get an excellent throw?”

“Slow down,” Kara laughs. “Yes, I play. But not at work,” she adds, pitching her voice a little louder. “And yeah, I can show you how to time your curveballs a little better, but I’m definitely no expert.”

“Cool. Did you know there’s a gym in the plaza here? You can only get to it from inside the building. But someone’s been turning the gym blue every night.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. And they put a big Persian in, like, every time. Do you think they’re trying to tease Mom?”

“What? No! I’m sure it’s meant to be, you know, flattering. What else would you put at CatCo?”

“I don’t know, something better. Stronger.”

Kara considers it, though she still thinks Cat would appreciate the elegance of something like a Ninetales over the pure power of, say, the giant Dragonite that takes over every day and is, if Kara’s being honest, a little dopey looking. When she tries explaining this logic to Carter, he just laughs and laughs, and she can’t help but feel like she’s missing something. But then Ms. Grant is poking her head out the door and telling Carter that his father has arrived. Carter disappears to gather his bags and kiss his mom goodbye, but on his way out he promises that they’ll actually play together next time he visits. 

\---

Cat peers up from her phone at the sound of Carter’s loud sigh. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“My Clefable got kicked out of the gym overnight. Again.”

“What did I tell you about Pokémon in the morning?”

“I already ate breakfast and brushed my teeth. Promise!” Cat gives him a slight nod of approval as he continues. “I bet you it’s Mystic again.”

“We’ll just have to see.” In fact, Cat is positive it will be occupied by Team Mystic. And not by just any Mystic player. No, no. Sure to be in the lineup is some infernal cat placed there by none other than “SuperPika15,” a ridiculous name for a player who has never once left behind a Pikachu. They probably don’t even _have_ a Pikachu. Not that Cat cares. Except for the fact that this person is clearly taunting her and playing Pokémon during work. Or breaking into the building overnight. Both are equally unacceptable.

Security, of course, insists that no one enters the building without their knowledge and a working staff pass with all-hours access. Cat’s fairly certain it’s one of their own who must be playing and stealing her gym and kicking out her son’s Pokémon each and every night. The head of security does not, however, agree that a player leaving taunting cat-like Pokémon is a high-level threat. (Cat’s threat to have him working the graveyard shift until he retires most certainly is, though.)

The thing is, Cat never _wanted_ to play this game. She heard the hype, of course, and familiarized herself with the lingo. Just because she wasn’t one of those millennials who’d spent their childhood hunched over a GameBoy giving themselves scoliosis and bad vision didn’t mean she couldn’t follow along. So she learned enough about Pokémon to know better than to act like Pikachu was the strongest one in the game, and when Carter asked to start an account, she helped him through setting up his profile and agreed to catch anything “interesting” that popped up at work for him while he was in school.

She did not expect the absolute frenzy the bullpen would become with someone shouting out every time a Pidgey spawned—another word she learned before their feature article went to print. So she banned the game in the workplace and only checked things for Carter every so often.

Only, the problem was, it was fun. And then Carter pointed out they could play together if she got her own account, and that was enough to have her setting up a profile that very evening and hiding her phone behind her computer monitors during the day lest any employee find her breaking her own rules.

Which is how she ended up here: sitting in her office before most of her employees have arrived, angrily stabbing at the screen until the godforsaken Persian and a Vileplume she’s never seen before faint and the gym’s prestige falls to zero, leaving it free for her to place her prized Dragonite—the product of more trips to her beach house than she’d like to admit.

“Ms. Grant?”

Cat’s phone clatters to her desk as she flips it over. “What?”

“I have the layouts you asked for.”

“Right.” Honestly, she swore she’d bought herself a bit more time with that request; the sports section is notoriously late, always cutting it too close to the deadline. Her personal working theory is that the thrill of a nearly missed print deadline is the closest they get to the adrenaline boost of any actual athletic game.

“Since they were ready earlier than usual, I gave them a quick look. The copy on the WNBA tournament is sloppy, and the photo spread is a bit cluttered, but otherwise I didn’t see any major issues.”

Cat can’t help the small smile. If she didn’t already have Kara pegged as a journalist-to-be, she’d start pushing her onto the editorial track now. Maybe one day… But no, it won’t do to get ahead of herself. A few late nights spent working side-by-side and imparting lessons do not a lifelong career trajectory make, and it wouldn’t do to be accused of favoritism. The whispers were bad enough when she let Kara stay after the unfortunate Chipotle incident. And by the time Kara had made it a full year they only got worse. And now, when it’s well-established office knowledge that Carter likes Kara, and Cat lets Kara make editorial suggestions, well…she knows better than to feed the rumor mill any more fodder.

“I’ll take a look. I’m glad _someone_ around here is doing their job.”

Kara beams as she turns and heads back to her desk.

Cat tries not to notice how nice her shoulders look in a sleeveless dress. Girl of steel…arms of steel… Either way, Cat’s a fan. Not that she should be. Just because they’ve stood out on the balcony together and had drinks and long conversations when Kara’s wearing the cape doesn’t make these pesky _feelings_ any better.

Only, not wanting to have feelings or an inappropriate crush doesn’t actually make them go away.

And spending all day with the woman in question does not help matters.

Nor does standing at her side and helping her save the world several months later.

So when Olivia calls with a job offer and an opportunity for a bit of much-needed distance, Cat doesn’t hesitate.

She spends two long months traveling and trying to pretend that wistful daydreams about late nights spent perched on the couch in her office with Kara and vivid flashes of blue and red that linger in the hazy moments between sleep and wakefulness mean nothing. (She also catches at least three of any and all regional Pokémon, per Carter’s request. She’s fairly certain she knows who he intends the third to be for, though she pushes aside all thoughts of cozy, domestic Sunday mornings bonding over breakfast and a silly little children’s game.)

Washington is a rush of distractions. It is late nights and early mornings and too many meetings with self-important men in suits that cost too much to be tailored as poorly as they are. It’s also lazy Sundays with Carter, wandering through the National Zoo, and listening to him chat excitedly about his new school, and pretending like it doesn’t kill her inside to be spotted once or twice in a cluster of people gathering for a Pokémon raid, phones clutched in their hands and excitement palpable in the air.

But of course the world nearly ends again. Apparently it’s becoming routine. And there’s talk of a boyfriend and a best friend, and Cat’s just…a mentor. Worth saving over the president, sure, but not a best friend. Not a boyfriend. 

Only, when she goes back to Washington, it starts. It being…she’s not even sure what to call it, and she’s founded a whole career on her way with words. The thing, what have you, means late night phone calls and text messages sent during the quiet pre-dawn hours and the occasional visit. It’s a cacophony of feelings, care and frustration and lust and a bit of self-loathing for it. It’s a drunk alien breaking off a corner of the marble countertop in Cat’s kitchen and nearly starting a house fire by trying to weld it back together with heat vision. It’s a hungover superhero blinking blearily over a cup of coffee and saying silly, sentimental things like, “I just missed you,” and nonsensical things like, “Even in the morning, so elegant…like Ninetales.”

The next visit, Kara is very much sober. And full of apologies. Stories of ex-boyfriends and found family and pain and loss and regret.

The visit after that, Kara brings food. She sets the table and lights candles, and Cat tries to convince herself that she’s merely romanticizing the evening, that the low lights and fluttering lashes and lingering touches mean nothing.

The following visit, Kara arrives in a hideous cardigan tugged on over a slightly more acceptable blouse. She’s wearing her glasses and twists a cheap ring nervously around her finger. There’s a confession of long-held feelings. “I tried so hard to get over them, I did, but nothing works, Cat. Nothing compares to you.” There is nervous stammering followed by a hint of steel. The demand to know if Kara is enough, the demand that she _must_ be enough.

Cat has never been one to mince her words. “I fell for Kara Danvers long before Supergirl arrived on the scene.” She wants to explain—to talk about why she ran, why she _had_ to run—but Kara’s pulling her forward and cupping her jaw, and really, Cat’s also never been one to turn down a perfect opportunity.

Kara spends the weekend.

On Sunday morning, Cat wakes to a notification that her Tyranitar has been kicked out of the gym she’s come to think of as hers over the past year.

A few moments later, Kara is beaming at her from behind a bag of pastries purchased at the little corner bakery Carter adores, her face falling slightly at the glare Cat’s giving her phone—a look that only intensifies when she clicks on the gym and finds a Persian there, mocking her once more.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Cat snaps. “One quick thing to be dealt with before breakfast.” She just needs to go reclaim _her_ gym and defeat…she clicks on the Persian, waiting for the trainer details to load…SuperPika15.

Oh.

For a moment, Cat fears she’s being stalked.

But then she looks up. At Supergirl.

“Really, Kara? A Persian?”

Kara blinks once. Twice. “You play Pokémon?”

Cat quirks an eyebrow and holds Kara’s gaze. “Whose Dragonair did you think you were kicking out of CatCo every night?”

Kara practically bounds into bed, pinning Cat with her weight. “Did you ban the game at work so that you could take over the gym without any competition?”

“I would never.” Cat sniffs and tries to look unaffected by the warm press of Kara’s body against hers. “It was hurting productivity.”

“But not yours?”

“No. I am an excellent multitasker.”

Kara smirks as she puts the bag of pastries on the bedside table and slides her fingers under Cat’s top, tracing lazy circles along her hip as she trails teasing kisses down Cat’s neck. “Well then I’ll just have to make sure you’re too thoroughly distracted to kick me out of your gym again, hmm?”

And Cat decides that maybe reclaiming her gym can wait for later.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone involved in organizing this week and all the writers and artists contributing! 
> 
> I'm on Twitter and Tumblr (sometimes) @sapphicscholar


End file.
